Our Frailties
by Pokabu
Summary: It's funny how life works out. Or is it? — AU, Raijin Days, Character death.


Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Durarara!

* * *

It's funny how life works out.

Izaya knows life, lives it, relishes in it and enjoys watching others live – and thrive, yes, watching them thrive is spectacular – he even makes a hobby out of it and watches people live their lives with those narrowed, crimson and intimidating eyes of his.

He knows humans. He knows life. He knows the two go hand-in-hand.

He knows both are easily shattered.

Suicide. Izaya wonders if it's easy. He wonders how some get those first life-halting thoughts and he thinks of their mindset and of their confusion and of their ignorance.

Izaya loves humans. He loves, loves, loves, loves, _loves_ them! And that's precisely why he wants to understand what brings his beloved humans to take their own lives.

Insecurities? Tragedies? Misunderstandings? What could it be? It's so different each time! But that makes it all the more fascinating.

People would call him cruel for coaxing someone in such emotional distress to go ahead and jump, pull the trigger, cut just a little bit deeper, tip a couple of pills too many past their throat or finally use that rope they had been storing for so long. Yes, they would call him cruel, but he doesn't care. It's all for the sake of knowledge and that's enough reason for him.

Things won't change, he settles to himself, things won't change until he fully understands.

He doesn't get the chance to.

* * *

It's funny how life works out.

One day he's with them; his companions. 'Friends' some might say, but he only considers one a friend. Not that he'd ever say that.

...Not that it matters. Not anymore.

It hasn't mattered for a while...ever since _she_ came along, actually.

Celty. Celty is her name. Izaya has known her since middle school and has observed her firsthand. She can't cook, she's a foreigner, she is struggling through speech therapy due to an incident in her previous home and she's kind. _Too_ kind. She knows of him, knows what he _does_, and through her half-lidded suspicious gaze she still manages to shut her eyes softly, eyelashes caressing her pale cheeks as she gives him that caring smile of hers.

He hates her. Hates, hates, hates, hates, hates, _hates_ her!

But Shinra loves her.

Shinra is his...friend. _Only_ friend. The only human Izaya has ever felt some sort of feeling for other than experimental interest. It's a strange feeling. It's warm and heavy and forces its way into his stomach, chest and throat.

And it hurts.

One day he's with them; his companions.

It's barely the start of their third year in high school and they're all anxious for Graduation already.

Shinra boldly stands during their lunch break atop the roof, face flushed and glasses slipping off his nose. He asks Celty to go out with him. She says yes.

Izaya pushes the strange feeling in his chest aside.

* * *

It's funny how life works out.

Two weeks before Graduation (finally, _finally_, Graduation) there's an armed robbery at the convenience store near Raijin Academy.

It's the same store Shinra, as well as many other students, frequent after school business is done with for the day.

And Shinra had class chores to do, didn't he? _What if he finished and decided to stop by the store?_

Izaya calls Shinra on instinct and ponders hanging up when the phone rings for the third time. However, the other teen picks up before he can make up his mind.

"Izaya? Have you seen the news?! There's-"

Relief. Immediate and oh so_ wonderful_ relief (of course, Shinra didn't have any chores that would hold him back _this_ late).

He hangs up without a second thought.

Later, much later, there's reports of shots fired.

Only one person is killed.

Raijin third year student, Celty Sturluson.

* * *

It's funny how life works out.

Seconds, minutes, hours tick by and he gets a surprise visitor.

Shinra screams, screams and screams until his throat is raw, until he can't possibly produce anymore tears and he collapses in on himself atop Izaya's bed.

Izaya blinks down at his friend, vaguely wonders why he would come over only to display such theatrics, but something in his stomach and chest forces him to stay silent and merely watch.

In the back of his mind he wonders if he should attend Celty's funeral.

In the end he doesn't bother.

* * *

It's funny how life works out.

During lunch break he hears from Dotachin (who apparently kept up with the news coverage) that Celty died protecting a young mother and her children. A fitting end for such a _kind_ girl, he thinks, but outwardly nods and then turns to look at the empty desk next to his.

Shinra hasn't been in school for a while.

The feeling in his stomach twists and so does the feeling in his chest, and suddenly it feels like he's going to be sick and he excuses himself from a bewildered Dotachin's presence before rushing to the boy's restroom.

He dashes into the nearest stall and slams the door behind him, barely locks it before he turns and heaves.

Nothing comes out.

* * *

It's funny how life works out.

Three days before Graduation (what they so _longed_ for) Izaya has enough and stomps over to Shinra's. They bump into each other half-way out (in Izaya's case,_ in_) the apartment complex, but Shinra doesn't even glance at him, doesn't even raise his head and just walks on.

Izaya follows.

And follows.

...And follows.

The sun is setting as their backdrop, casting a multitude of oranges and pinks across the blue sky. Izaya brings a hand up to shield his eyes and looks, takes it all in, then lowers his gaze to Shinra's back. The bespectacled boy speeds up when he seems to have found his destination.

Izaya's chest (no, something _in_ his chest) constricts and trembles.

There's a building, tall and bare and old and broken, and there's an alley right next to it.

Shinra ducks into the alley.

Izaya ducks in after him and catches sight of the stains on the pavement. Red stains. Blood.

His chest hurts, but he presses on.

There's a rickety, rusty and basically unsafe looking ladder up the side of the building. Shinra, little Shinra who has never been athletic in the least, manages to grab hold of the end and forces himself to climb up. Izaya follows after a beat, his chest- no, his _heart_ (so _that's_ what it was) pounding hard against his ribs.

_No, no, no, no, no!_

They make it to the top without incident, and as the last light of the evening fades into inky darkness Shinra finally turns to regard him.

That's all it is. A regard. No smile, no chuckle, not even the faintest hint of sheepishness. It's all raw emotion hidden behind glasses, hidden but not tamed.

Izaya swallows thickly. Shinra walks to the edge of the building, balances himself and spares the raven one last look.

He smiles for the first time in a long while, forced and small and untrue, but it's a smile nonetheless.

"See ya," he whispers hoarsely, so hoarsely it doesn't take a genius to know he's been crying.

_Liar_, Izaya thinks even as his body screams for him to move (_help him!_), even as his heart feels as if it's about to burst right out of his chest (panic and shock and horror courses through his veins), even as something distinctively wet spills out from his hurting eyes (tears?). _You liar_.

Shinra's body goes over the edge.

Life stops being funny for Orihara Izaya.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I had this idea and it wouldn't get out of my head so...here's the result. Rambling? Why yes. I wanted to make it seem like rambling in this story at times, so I hope that came across...even if just a little!


End file.
